


Mortality

by inkspot_fox



Series: Striations [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Gay Male Character, Gray Jedi, In which Lord Scourge tries but is still a bastard, Jedi Knight Katsulas, Knights of the Fallen Empire, Knights of the Fallen Empire Spoilers, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Suicidal Thoughts, this is not a healthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 05:50:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10984671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkspot_fox/pseuds/inkspot_fox
Summary: In which Scourge and Katsulas have a moment alone after they’re finally reunited on Odessen, and Scourge discovers the scar on Kat’s abdomen.





	1. Mortality

**Author's Note:**

> To prove that I’m still working on Sunspots, I wrote a thing that is not Sunspots but is in the Sunspots universe. I'm...I'm trying, okay.
> 
> I wrote this after writing 'Armor' and decided that the two pieces worked best back to back. So Chapter 1 of this is 'Mortality', and Chapter 2 is 'Armor'. Also, despite the way this begins, there is nothing sexually explicit in either chapter. This should be work-safe. There is, however, plenty of swearing and mentions of suicidal thoughts, and everyone should remember that Kat’s relationship with Scourge is not a healthy one.

Scourge smothers Katsulas like an avalanche the instant they’re alone. Potential energy in the form of worry and longing stored up over five years is finally unleashed with singular focus. Kat’s back hits the wall with enough force to knock the wind from his lungs, and when he gasps, Scourge’s mouth crushes his own and steals what air he has left. Kat makes a muffled, pained noise of protest, but instead of letting go, the hands curled around his biceps squeeze hard enough to bruise his dark skin through his clothing. “Five _years_ ,” Scourge snarls against Kat’s mouth. “ _Where were you?_ ”

“Frozen in _fucking_ carbonite,” Katsulas growls back, “in Arcann’s personal _goddamn_ trophy room.”

Scourge pulls just far enough away to stare at him, but his grip doesn’t loosen.

“You’re hurting me,” Katsulas says through gritted teeth.

“I always hurt you,” Scourge retorts, but this time he lets go. “Normally you _enjoy_ that.”

The last of Kat’s energy drains out of him, leaving him feeling cold, hollow, and utterly exhausted. He’d been so _happy_ to see Scourge at first, enough that he’d forgotten how _intense_ Scourge can be in all the wrong ways. Forgotten how accustomed Scourge is to feeding off of Kat’s _anger_ more than anything else, because anger is easy and happiness is so _rare_ for Kat. Pleasure is the closest they ever come to joy.

Sometimes, Katsulas thinks back to the dilapidated temple where he'd spent a few weeks in hiding after he'd left the Jedi Order for the first time. He remembers lying on the stone roof and thinking about how high up he was and how long it would take him to hit the jungle floor. He remembers Scourge carrying him off the cold roof and wrapping him first in a warm blanket on the couch, and then in his own massive arms. He remembers Scourge pressing gentle kisses to the top of his head and, hours later, to the hollow of his throat and the inside of his thigh.

Katsulas wishes he didn't have to be suicidal for Scourge to treat him with gentleness. And while he doesn't actively want to die right at this second, he still feels too brittle for more bruises.

Katsulas sags against the wall. “Not...not tonight, Scourge. Not tonight.”

Scourge’s fists clench. His gauntlets creak and his red eyes narrow. “Fine,” he says through gritted teeth, and abruptly he turns to leave.

“Scourge?” Kat’s confusion turns to panic as he realizes that Scourge believes he’s been spurned. “No, wait!” Kat lunges away from the wall and catches Scourge’s cape. “That’s not...that’s not what I meant.”

Scourge turns and stares wordlessly at Katsulas. His expression is flat and unreadable.

Kat tightens his hand in the cape, bunching the black fabric between his fingers. “Dammit, Scourge, you complete _ass_. I _missed_ you.” His mouth pinches briefly, and the creases beneath his eyes deepen with exhaustion. “Though at this very moment, I’m beginning to question _why_.”

Scourge remains silent for long enough that Kat almost gives up. He’s about to let go of the cape when finally, Scourge says: “I searched for you. The entire galaxy was convinced of your death, but I would have sensed your passing. Your signature faded, but did not extinguish.”

Kat says nothing.

Scourge steps in close to him and takes hold of Kat’s arms again, but his grip is more gentle this time. “And then, when it returned to full strength, all I could sense was _Vitiate_.”

Katsulas tenses. “I’m not possessed. He doesn’t control me, Scourge, you know that. And he’s _gone_ , anyway, I _told--_ ”

“I am _aware_ ,” Scourge says, cutting him off. His fingers squeeze more tightly around Kat’s arms, but not quite enough to bruise. “Otherwise I would not have returned. I came back for _you_ , Katsulas.”

 _Of course,_ Kat thinks as he stares up at Scourge’s face. _How selfish of me._ “Right… you need me in order to feel, and it's been five years for you.” Kat drops his gaze back down and stares blankly forward at Scourge's chest. He closes his eyes and his shoulders sag. He's so tired. “But I don't have anything for you right now.”

“Katsulas--”

“I was _happy_ to see you,” Katsulas says abruptly. His fingertips dig into his palms. He can feel his own throat tightening, and a deep ache begins to swell above his sternum. “I was _happy_. And then you… Why can't that be enough?”

In the long seconds of silence that follow, Kat wishes he hadn't said anything. He wishes he'd kept his stupid mouth shut. He wishes he could be stronger than this, and that he could stop sounding like a fragile, pathetic child all the time. He wishes he could live up to being the Hero that Scourge saw in his vision three hundred years ago.

Scourge sighs, and Kat feels the hands on his biceps loosen and slide around to his back. Scourge pulls Katsulas against him. “It _is_ enough,” Scourge says. “I _enjoy_ your delight, when you feel it. But you feel happiness so rarely, Katsulas. It is often more effective to drive you towards anger.”

Katsulas curls his arms around Scourge's torso and presses his forehead to Scourge’s sternum. “I can’t do that tonight,” he whispers. “I can’t. I was so happy to see you, and then…”

Katsulas feels Scourge shift, pulling slightly away so that he can bend down and tilt Kat’s face up towards his own. Katsulas isn’t sure, but he thinks he might be able to see a hint of warmth in Scourge’s flat red eyes before he covers Kat’s mouth with his own. This time, Katsulas doesn’t protest. He presses hungrily up into the kiss and threads his fingers into the front of Scourge’s cape. Kat feels the hand on his jaw shift to curl through his thick black hair and settle at the back of his head, holding him in place. Scourge’s other hand dips from the span between his shoulderblades to the small of his back and up underneath the hem of his shirt to press against his bare skin.

Katsulas forgets all about the mottled, circular mass of scar tissue until Scourge runs his palm over it and goes very, very still.

Then Scourge pulls away, tight-lipped and scowling, and turns Katsulas around before he can protest. Katsulas can’t see his expression as he lifts the hem of Kat’s shirt higher and stares at the livid scars--stark and pale against his dark skin--but he can hear the anger in Scourge’s voice as he asks, “How did this happen?”

Katsulas closes his eyes and swallows, bracing himself for a fight that he doesn’t have the energy for. “Arcann. He found us on Asylum shortly after we escaped from the Spire. He managed to run me through, I shoved him off the building.”

Scourge reaches around and feels beneath the front of Kat’s shirt where he finds the other, matching scar. “This should have been _fatal_ ,” Scourge growls.

Katsulas exhales slowly. “Vitiate kept me alive. And no, I didn’t ask him to.”

Scourge turns Katsulas back around to face him again, both hands on Kat’s shoulders, and when Katsulas looks up at Scourge’s face, the expression he finds there is… strange. Scourge’s lips are thinned and his eyes are just a little wider than usual. “How could you be so careless?” Scourge asks, his voice harsh.

Kat narrows his eyes. “Vitiate threw me off-balance by pulling me outside the flow of time and offering his power to me,” he grits out, his jaw clenched. “I _refused_ his obvious attempt at manipulation, and when Vitiate let me go, all of my defenses were down.”

Scourge’s lips thin even further, and he looks back down at Kat’s abdomen. “You shouldn’t have--”

“What? Shouldn’t have fucking _what_ , Scourge?” Katsulas shouts. “Shouldn’t have refused?”

“That is not--”

“Shouldn’t have let my guard down while Vitiate was literally fucking with my perception of time?” Katsulas balls his fists and presses his forearms over his abdomen, directly above the hole-shaped scar. “ _Fuck you_ , Scourge. You weren’t _there_. You weren’t fucking _there_.” Kat’s shoulders hunch, and he feels small and cold and miserable. “I _just_ said I don’t want to do this, Scourge. I don’t want to fight. Just stop.”

The grip on Kat’s shoulders loosens, but Scourge doesn’t let go or move away. After a moment, he says, “In all the years I have known you, I have never seen you come so close to death.”

Katsulas says nothing. He stares at Scourge’s boots.

“You could have _died_ , and I would not have even been there.”

“Yeah, well,” Katsulas mutters after a moment, “I can’t actually blame you for keeping your distance.”

Kat doesn’t resist when Scourge pulls him close again and wraps his arms tightly around his shoulders. “I will not leave you again,” Scourge promises. He kisses the top of Kat’s head.

Katsulas closes his eyes and takes a slow, deep breath. He lets it out and nods once against Scourge’s chest. “I missed you,” he says quietly.

“I missed you, too.”


	2. Armor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katsulas doesn't wear armor. This is a problem that Scourge finally decides to address.

“What...what is this?” Katsulas picks up the small stack of clothing that he’s found waiting neatly folded on the edge of his bed. The first piece unfolds into a shirt he’s never seen before. It’s flexible like cloth, but nowhere near as soft. He rubs the pad of his thumb over the weave; it’s cool, smooth, and metallic.

“It’s armor,” Scourge says as he enters the room after Kat.

The shirt, Katsulas realizes now, is _exactly_ his size. “This doesn’t _look_ like armor. Also I don’t wear armor, Scourge.”

“You _not wearing armor_ is the problem,” Scourge growls. “That is a cortosis weave. Relatively light, flexible, strong, and it will offer some additional protection against glancing lightsaber blows and blaster bolts. You will wear it underneath your outer tunic.”

Katsulas blinks and looks up from the shirt. “Scourge--”

“ _No._ ” Scourge slashes one hand through the air and strides towards Katsulas. “I have _tolerated_ your apparent _death wish_ for far too long, Katsulas.”

Heat flushes through Kat’s face, and he clenches his jaw. “I don’t _actually_ have a death wish.” He looks down and away, towards the opposite wall. “I know how I get sometimes. But it’s not…” _It’s not like that_ , Katsulas wants to finish, but he can’t quite say it.

“A lack of will to end your own life does not preclude the possibility of hoping that someone _else_ will do it _for_ you,” Scourge replies, his voice flat and harsh.

Kat’s breath catches in the hollow of his throat, and he freezes. He feels cold and displaced, and he barely registers the cortosis weave biting into his hands as he clenches his fingers around the shirt. He doesn’t really hear Scourge approaching until a heavy, strong hand closes on his shoulder. Katsulas doesn’t look up.

Scourge sighs. “You court death, Katsulas. This must stop.” Scourge presses his other hand flat to Kat’s abdomen, directly over the mottled knot of scar tissue where Arcann had run him through. “I will _not_ lose you.”

Katsulas closes his eyes. He swallows and places one hand over Scourge’s on his stomach. Warmth curls in Kat’s chest.

“Wear the armor,” Scourge insists again.

“Okay,” Katsulas says, nodding once. He opens his eyes and rubs his thumb over the shirt again, this time enjoying the way it slides over his fingers like cool water. Kat presses the shirt to his chest. “...Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr ( singing-hedgehog ) where I sometimes post small things like this one, as well as the occasional snippet from Sunspots and character discussion. Also plenty of salt and a complete lack of dignity.


End file.
